"I do believe, thou moon-cast shadow of a man, if Bruno de Malpas were to walk in and ask for her, thou wouldst just say, `Here she is, O my Lord: do what thou wilt with thy slave.'" "I think, Licorice, it would break my heart. But we have let him break his for eighteen years. And if it came to breaking hers--What wicked thing did he do, wife, that we should have used him thus?" "What! canst thou ask me? Did he not presume to lay unclean hands on a daughter of Israel, of whom saith the Holy One, `Ye shall not give her unto the heathen'?" "I do not think De Malpas was a heathen." "Hast thou been to the creeping thing up yonder and begged to be baptised to-morrow?" This was a complimentary allusion to that Right Reverend person, the Bishop of Norwich. "Nay, Licorice, I am as true to the faith as thou." "_Ay de mi_! I must have put on my gown wrong side out, to make thee say so." And Licorice pretended to make a close examination of her skirt, as if to discover whether this was the case. "Licorice, is it not written, `Cursed be their wrath, for it was cruel?' Thine was, wife." "Whatever has come to thy conscience? It quietly went to sleep for eighteen years; and now, all at once, it comes alive and awake!" Abraham winced, as though he felt the taunt true. "`Better late than never,' wife." "That is a Christian saying." "May be. It is true." "Well!" And Licorice's hands were thrust out from her, as if she were casting off drops of water. "I've done my best. I shall let it alone now. Genta must be nursed: and I cannot bring infection home. And after all, the girl is thine, not mine. Thou must take thine own way. But I shall bid her good-bye for ever: for I have no hope of seeing her again." Abraham made no answer, unless his troubled eyes and quivering lips did so for him. But the night closed in upon a very quiet chamber, owing to the absence of Licorice. Delecresse sat studying, with a book open before him: Belasez was busied with embroidery. Abraham was idle, so far as his hands were concerned; but any one who had studied him for a minute would have seen that his thoughts were very active, and by no means pleasant. Ten calm days passed over, and nothing happened. They heard, through neighbours, that Genta was going through all the phases of a tedious illness, and that Licorice was a most attentive and valuable nurse. At the end of those ten days, Delecresse came in with an order for some of the exquisite broidery which only Belasez could execute. It was wanted for the rich usurer's wife, Rosia: and she wished Belasez to come to her with specimens of various patterns, so that she might select the one she preferred. A walk through the city was an agreeable and unusual break in the monotony of existence; and Rosia's house was quite at the other end of the Jews' quarter. Belasez prepared to go out with much alacrity. Her father escorted her himself, leaving Delecresse to mind the shop.